There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
Her golden eyes linger upon the mare’s dual-toned coat, catching upon star-like objects twinkling along her skin at regular intervals. How intriguing. Had she the time, and the other woman the inclination, she would have spent much longer studying those lights embedded into her body. They are lovely in a way that is hard to describe, a striking reminder of the horror that is her own body. She avoids looking in reflective surfaces anymore, but she has her own appearance memorized far too well. Though the shade of her coat is lovely, with its bright red coloring fading into alabaster white points, the fissures splitting every inch of her skin is an unsightly mess. The bright light that flickers along those cracks highlights her imperfections. But, more than that, it displays her power. Her ability to survive. It also serves to regularly disconcert those that have never before seen her. An incredibly useful tool, she might add.
While Joscelin had been admiring the taller mare’s appearance, the woman had started speaking. Damn. Joscelin jerks herself from her reverie, forcing herself to focus on the conversation at hand. And yet another reason why she would make a poor diplomat. Those reasons seem to keep piling up by the day. The black and white woman is quite forthcoming in her explanation, surprising Joscelin. Of course, most days Joscelin herself is rather reticent. As a result, it always surprises her when others are less so.
As she speaks, a slow smile begins to curve Joscelin’s pale lips. A trainer of the Tundra’s women, is she? Impressive. From what she understood, there were few women in the bachelor’s land. But then again, her knowledge and familiarity with the land is extremely limited. She can only think however, that any woman willing to live in that wasteland must he impressive indeed.
”Well, were I one of these mares, I would quite happily accept your offer. You certainly look capable.”
She gives her another lingering perusal, under the guise of assessing the validity of her statement, naturally. She cannot regret her thoughtlessly spoken words however, for the mare before her is indeed quite lovely. And appears to be quite capable. Her next words, however, give her pause. She would have to pick one that has a mate. Of course, she should have known any female living in the Tundra would already be claimed.
”Hmmmm. Pity.”
She says no more, though a small, soft sigh does escape her lips. She has never been one to pursue pointless endeavors. But she really does seem to have rotten luck. Or perhaps just terrible instincts. Or terrible timing. Or maybe all three.
”Well, in that case, the one you would want to talk to is our Khaleesi, Lagertha.”
Quirking a brow, she offers her another lingering look before making one small addition, largely because she simply cannot help herself.
”I would be quite happy to put in a good word for you.”
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria